Possession's Reason
by Ithilas
Summary: Possession can be defined as the state of monomania. Monomania can be defined as excessive interest or concentration on a singular object or subject; a pathological obsession with one person, thing or idea.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Possession's Reason

For: Lady_Katana4544

Prompt : Bee/Sam/Possession

Rating: T

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I'll admit that I had an idea on this one but that plot bunny died when this one sprung to life. Out of curiosity I decided to look up the exact definition of possession. It was an interesting read which gave birth to this new plot bunny which was further fed by an interesting blurb on those trading cards I got at the theater last night. Probably not exactly what you were thinking when you gave me the prompt but I hope you like it!

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Possession can be defined as the state of monomania. Monomania can be defined as excessive interest or concentration on a singular object or subject; a pathological obsession with one person, thing or idea.

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It was quiet. Leaves rustled softly as a gentle breeze blew through them underscoring the noise of crickets chirping happily in the quiet of midnight. Pushing away a few stray branches from his face he moved to stand in a clearing marked by gouges in its earth and filled with the remnants of torn and broken trees. "He was always meant for this purpose, Bumblebee." A small electronic warble escaped him as the deep, rich tones of the older 'bot filled the air between them. "Always. It was never coincidence that the Allspark came to Earth out of the nigh infinite number of other possible planets for it to inhabit." A sigh then movement as a large hand came to rest comfortingly atop his shoulder. "You have never failed in your faith before so why do you falter so now, Bumblebee?"

For a long moment he didn't answer content to smell the sweet scents of oil, dirt and that faint odor of energon that Optimus always seemed to have. "How am I supposed to protect him?" He asked, his frame beginning to tremble as images begin to flash through his processor. "I've already failed him once. I can't—I can't do it again."

"Do you not find it strange that at the moment he fell you found yourself with the feeling that you were needed?" Rough, battle-worn fingers tightened their grip on his shoulder before letting go as Optimus slid away from him to kneel on the ground his hands brushing through the still moist earth. "In the moment that he needed you the most, you were there. Being called by the Primes through the Matrix of Leadership is not an easy journey." Lifting a handful of dirt intense blue optics narrowed as the small grains of dirt were whisked away by the light breeze blowing through the trees around them. "Harder still is to find your way back. In time Sam will learn to do so without the aid of a guide but for now, he has you to remind him of the way back from the Matrix."

Jerking in surprise he felt his battle mask slip down over his faceplates as he let loose a high pitched warble, optics widening. "Have you never wondered at the ease with which you settled into your position as guardian?" Optimus asked with sincere curiosity brightening his optics as the younger 'bot hurriedly pushed his mask back up. "Do you not wonder why you and you alone are the guardian of the Keeper of the Allspark?" Dirt pouring through his hands as he slowly rose to his full height, the Prime turned his body to the side as he tilted his face upwards to the sky. "Where any other being might have held doubts you never once did so. Where we worried you remained steadfast in your belief that above all he would. Not. Fail."

"Optimus, sir. What are—I don't understand."

"You won't understand for some time yet, Bumblebee." Optimus replied warmly. "Just know that you were always meant to protect him. Anything else that comes from that is solely your own choice."

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Let's consider this a work in progress because I don't think the plot bunny is quite done.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Possession's Reason

For: Lady_Katana4544

Prompt: Bee/Sam/Possession

Rating: T

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Possession can be defined as the state of monomania. Monomania can be defined as excessive interest or concentration on a singular object or subject; a pathological obsession with one person, thing or idea.

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The humidity on the air was thick enough that he thought he could taste the promise of rain being carried along the winds preceding the storm clouds to the southwest. Dark fluffy clouds formed the horizon as purple tinted bolts of lightning danced among them like children playing tag. Stopping to watch the lightning as the first light droplets of rain dripped down from the clouds the wind pulled at his clothing as he stared transfixed by the storm. Stiffening as he felt more than saw the large mech coming to a halt beside him, he glanced at the calm visage from the corner of his eye. A tense silence settled over the pair as Sam stared at the storm with a steadfast determination. Blades of grass rustled softly as the wind blew through tugging almost insistently at the leaves of the lone tree near him. Lightning flashed casting the red and blue 'bot next to him in an eerie light, the hard ridges of armor and protective plating shining in sharp contrast to the malleable protoform beneath.

Tearing his gaze away from the sight with some difficulty, he jumped when the other's voice rumbled like a sharp crack of thunder between them. "I find it to be difficult to answer questions that remain as yet unspoken." Stiffening at the subtle reproach carried within the deep tones, slender fingers curled tightly against soft palms. "Bumblebee has informed me that your questions are of a nature too delicate to be spoken of in any setting outside of this. I would hear what is it that bothers you to the point that you would seek me out."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Why did you let me think that was the end of it? Why did you let me think that I'd done my part so I could go back to being normal for a change?" Swallowing as he watched the last shades of the red and orange sunset give way to the darkening blue and black hues of the thunderstorm, Sam closed his eyes. "You knew—I told you… I told you I wanted to be normal. That I wanted to go to college and do all the things that other people do."

Opening his eyes he turned his head to stare up at the silent 'bot. "I thought at first that those images—_The Language of the Primes_—would go away but they haven't." Licking his lips nervously he lifted his chin in a manner reminiscent of his father at the height of anger, voice low and unhurried as he enunciated each word with a precision absent from normal conversation. "I gotta know Optimus, is there a reason I'm understanding a language most of you guys don't even _remember_? Or is this another one of those things that fall under all of the things you haven't told me?" Ignoring the sharp crack of thunder rolling across the sky, Sam's expression turned challenging. "I don't want this. Any of it. So you can take your stupid Allspark, your stupid Matrix of Leadership and find someone—just find someone else, okay? I don't want it. It's yours." Spinning on the heel of his foot he moved to begin the short walk down the road from the lookout to where he knew Bumblebee was waiting for him when Optimus spoke.

"The Line of Primes is gone. All who might once have laid claim to such a title are now long gone with only their Sparks kept within the Matrix of Leadership until such a time comes when their voices and wisdom are needed once more." Dirt crunched beneath his sneakers as he slowed under the weight of Optimus' gaze pressing between his shoulders. "There would have been a time where the Matrix of Leadership remained forever lost to us upon my passing from this world into the next. Cybertron would have been left in ruins as a testament to the Fallen's need for revenge against all those that might have stood against him and Earth would be no more than a memory of Decepticon conquest." Lowering himself to the ground so as to present a smaller target to the lightning overhead, Optimus watched as Sam stopped with one foot digging idly in the dirt. "All beings granted the gifts of sentience are able to choose their own fate, only fate is not something easily recognized. Your moment of fate was reached and you were presented with your choice. The choice you made at that moment defined the path you would take."

Bending his knee and resting his arm atop it, Optimus turned his gaze upwards as a particularly violent gust of wind tore a few leaves from their branches. "Fates such as ours are rarely to our liking as those chosen often hold no desire for such a thing. For those it is a fate to be shouldered with all of the grace and dignity that can be found in such a situation." Sighing as the rain began to fall in earnest; Optimus watched the rain gather along the leaves of the tree before spilling to the grass below. "There is always more than one crossroad in fates design and this is one such occurrence. I can only show you the different paths that lie in front of you; which path you choose to take is solely your choice to make."

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This was the product of a rewrite from the first version that I wrote night before last. It's a better capture of the things that I wanted in here than the first one was. One part left. Minor edits made thanks to okami_myrrhibis pointing them out to me. Thank you so much!


	3. Chapter 3

He was sitting under a tree whose leaves had begun the slow process of changing from vivid greens to brilliant yellows mixed with brown and orange. Picking up a stick he carefully marked out a symbol on the intricate board he'd created of the earth still moist from the storm the previous night. Brown eyes narrowed in concentration his teeth gnawing on his lower lip as he thought through a dozen odd possibilities before sighing and leaning forward to rub out the symbol. This wasn't what he'd had in mind when Optimus had suggested he begin taking lessons on strategy from Prowl. Especially as he'd been unaware that the tactician was apparently a closet sadist who took unholy pleasure in forcing his student to think until his head threatened to explode from the excessive heat generated by using parts of his brain he didn't know he could use.

Growling softly with frustration he threw the stick down and leaned back until his head was resting against the rough bark of the tree behind him. Stretching one leg out as he dragged the other in so that the sole of his foot rested flat against the ground he tapped it in a rhythm that held no purpose other than to help him center his thoughts. It was official (and not like it hadn't been obvious to begin with but still…) Optimus was insane if he honestly thought that he could manage to learn even a 100th of the stuff that he was supposed to learn. Prowl's lessons were meant to teach him things that he wasn't sure he was ready for or that he would ever be ready for because Optimus had to be wrong. Optimus had to be wrong because if he wasn't wrong then—

"I think that perhaps you are blind to the qualities within yourself that shine so brilliantly that Optimus can't help but take note of them." Taking care not to disturb the board that had been drawn in the dirt from memory Prowl took note of the many areas where the dirt had been rubbed smooth. "You were speaking aloud," he commented softly as brown eyes turned to him with awed wonder in their depths, "and I find myself thankful that you were. How is it that you can hold such faith in him and yet you doubt the strength of his judgment when it comes to you?"

"Because I'm Sam." He said simply as if it explained everything his shoulders slumping when the tactician glared at him. "I can't be what he wants me to be. It's just not possible. How can I be like him when I'm who I am? He _died_ because of me and now everyone thinks that because the Primes brought me back to life (and one of these days we're gonna seriously have it out about that whole coming back from the dead thing) and told me how to bring him back that I'm all of sudden something more than who I've always been."

"We neither ask it of you nor do we expect that you will become Optimus' shadow. It would be impossible and illogical to ask you to become someone that you are not." Prowl said somberly his hand reaching out to pluck up a stray branch before scratching a symbol into one of the squares. "We want nothing more from you than what you yourself are capable of giving. There is no one true way to become a Prime because if there were we would have more candidates then there would be teachers." Leaning back in a crouch as his student picked up his own broken branch and began to look over the board Prowl gestured towards the bottom of the hill where a yellow Camaro waited patiently. "Loyalty as it is seen between you and Bumblebee is not something easily found nor is it something that is forged without sacrifice. Tell me why you fought against your own so fiercely when it became apparent that Bumblebee was in danger."

"Because it was wrong."

"I do not ask for half-truths or for words that are given to whosoever may find it necessary to ask. I ask for the truth behind the emotions that drove you to act with little care for your own safety so long as his was assured." Making an approving hum at his student's choice, he glanced over the remaining spaces on the board. "Tell me why you could watch your parents being taken away from you but yet you fought with every atom of your being to protect Bumblebee even when you knew that you could not do anything but fail."

"Because I had to try!" Brown eyes glared up as cool blue optics continued their perusal of the makeshift board. "I couldn't stand there and watch them hurt him!"

"But why him and why not your family? Am I mistaken in my assessment of the bonds shared between yourself and your parents?"

"Why does there need to be a reason?" Sam asked with a mutinous twist to his lips. "They wouldn't have hurt my parents because they were human and my Dad knows enough people that they wouldn't be able to hurt them even if they wanted to. Bumblebee didn't have those protections. They looked at him and all they saw was an _experiment_."

Prowl squatted back on his haunches a pleased smile quirking the edges of his mouth as he watched Sam try to calm his breathing the redness of the youth's cheeks fading with his anger. "I think you ask me why I am able to accept Optimus' choice as a logical one and I can see now why you fail to understand my reasoning. Tell me what good pieces on a board are without a master to move them?" Picking up his stick, he etched symbols into the remaining squares with a sure and steady hand. "A master can be more than what you imagine him to be, Sam. A master is not the one willing to sacrifice every pawn on the board because they believe it to be the best course of action but rather they will wait and watch for the picture to unfold in blinding clarity before they will take action. The master will take the actions that will ensure the safety of those under him whilst understanding that there are some who can never be saved because they were never the master's responsibility to save."

"They're my parents! Of course—."

Prowl interrupted the beginnings of a rant by way of a poke to the teen's forehead with the branch in his hand. "Do not speak without taking the time to think or else you dishonor the instinct that guided your actions. You said yourself not a few kliks ago that your parents were safe because they were human which means that in your subconscious you recognize that they are not yours to protect. You are not yet a master but you will be." Tracing lines through the symbols the tactician stopped once the symbols were connected through an intricate pattern of straight and curving lines. "You are in training and that means you will make mistakes but never make the mistake of believing your instincts to be incorrect. Even the most logical processor knows the value of instinct and only those that have loose circuitry will ignore it. Your instincts led you to protect Bumblebee at all costs whereas those same instincts told you that your parents did not require your assistance."

Sam opened his mouth to speak before closing it with an unsettled expression on his face as he turned his attention to the mess that Prowl had made of his carefully etched playing board. Brown eyes intense they traced the intricate lines before widening in surprise. "Fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing¹." He murmured in a breathy tone before he chuckled and pressed the heels of his hands against his temples. "This is why he wouldn't tell me anything. He wanted me—," tilting his head to the head to the side Sam peered up at the Autobot with a curious expression. "He _needed_ me to figure this out on my own, didn't he?"

"That is not an answer I can give you."

"No but it's the right one, isn't it?" Standing he stared up at Prowl for a moment longer before looking down to begin rubbing out the playing board with his feet. "Something's coming and he wants me ready. But how do I know I'm ready?"

"You don't." Prowl said simply with a flick of his door wings as he stood. "You trust that we have given you the preparation needed to face whatever it is that you must face. You trust in it just as we trust in you to be able to stand ready if the time comes."

"Prowl?"

"Yes?"

"Promise me you'll be there if I need help?"

"Would it not be more prudent to ask Bumblebee?"

"No. No, it wouldn't cause Bee's not the one making me realize things that I've been trying to ignore. Bee'll be the one to protect me when I need it but he won't be the one to smack me in the head with a stick when I need it."

Startled into laughter at the teen's somber expression Prowl swiftly regained control of himself to kneel down. "As long I function I will be there to aid you if you need it." As the teen sagged in obvious relief, he was struck by a mischievous urge that he blamed on Jazz. "I will also be sure to keep sticks on hand in the event that they are necessary." Picking the teen up in one hand Prowl straightened before he began walking down the hill. "You should probably close your mouth before you ingest a rather unpleasant organic life form."


End file.
